


Surprises Are Better Than Promises

by beargirl1393



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dwobbits, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-08-16 13:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8104030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beargirl1393/pseuds/beargirl1393
Summary: Written for a prompt on the Hobbit Kink Meme: Some time post-quest, the Ri brothers are passing through Bree on the way to the Shire to visit Bilbo when a lass comes up to them with a red-haired, obviously part Dwarf child in her arms. Dori immediately starts reading Nori the riot act, assuming he's responsible, when the lass points at Ori and says, "No, HE'S the one!"Or the story in which Ori hadn't wanted to die on the quest a virgin, hooked up with a lass in Bree, and ended up fathering a child. What happens next is up to you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still working on Werewolves at Hogwarts, but I'm a bit stuck on the current chapter, hence me working on this instead of that right now. I don't particularly like the title, it's a filler because I couldn't think of anything or leave it unnamed, so if you have any better suggestions for this, let me know!

Bree was rather unchanged from how Ori remembered it as he and his brothers made their way through the town, heading for the Prancing Pony.

After the Battle of the Five Armies, as that final battle at Erebor’s doors had come to be called, Bilbo had decided to return to his home. He did love his new friends, and he was extremely happy that they had their home back, but he missed his home as well. What had surprised them all was Bifur’s decision to go with the hobbit, but as their burglar had been sporting an easily recognizable braid by the time they left.

Thorin, Fili, and Kili were still chafing under Oin’s orders to remain in Erebor, as although they were healing, he didn’t believe them fit for such a long journey yet. Likewise, Erebor needed Thorin and Balin, while Dwalin spent his time alternately guarding Thorin and training recruits, so he had been too busy to travel. Gloin and his family had stopped to visit on their way back, as had Bofur, Bombur, and Bombur’s many children. Still, all three of the Brothers Ri had been too busy to leave Erebor until now, one year after the battle.

It had been an easy trip, compared to their journey last time, and they had made fairly good time despite Dori and Nori’s continual arguing. It happened so often, however, that Ori had learned to tune it out, background noise that amused him rather than irritating him as it had when he was a dwarfling. He’d learned that getting irritated every time his brothers squabbled did nothing more than give him a headache and put him in a bad mood. Besides, despite their differences, he knew that Dori and Nori loved each other, and they would eventually make up each time.

Ori still had his journal, planning on showing it to Bilbo and seeing how his retelling of the quest compared to the hobbit’s, as he knew Bilbo was already working on a record of their journey. Bombur wouldn’t say anything more than that, however, although Bofur had laughed hysterically when he’d passed a pair of yellow boots in Dale’s market, bought them for Thorin, and refused to explain anything. Ori assumed the hobbit would have an answer for that, and hopefully wouldn’t mind answering questions about hobbits as well. There were very few books on hobbits, and Ori wanted to be able to add to what little was known about the race.

As they made their way through Bree, that was the extent of Ori’s thoughts. Getting answers about his questions, maybe answering a few of Bilbo’s if the hobbit had any questions, and hoping that his brothers would stop arguing enough that he would be able to sleep without putting a pillow over his head like he’d needed to at the last three inns. To save money, not that any of them were short of it now, they’d simply shared a room as they had in the past, which was fine as long as his brothers didn’t keep him up with their bickering.

Briefly, though, as he dismounted his pony and looked around, Ori remembered the last time he had been in Bree. The dark night, the smoky interior of the inn. Feeling so out of place, sitting alone at a table clearly made for men rather than dwarves. And then, of seeing her. Of her long, thick hair, braided back out of her way but with a few wisps stubbornly escaping no matter how much she’d pushed them back. Of her laugh and her easy smile, coaxing stories out of him and laughing, but not unkindly, at his infrequent blushes.

Of course, his thoughts didn’t stop there, as he remembered confessing that he was going on a quest and didn’t want to die a virgin. Of her going to the innkeeper and renting a room for the night before leading him to it. He’d known the basics, what he could learn from books and listening to Nori’s bawdy stories when Dori wasn’t around, but she had taught him much more. He knew that he wasn’t her first, she had been frank about that, but she had also made his first time memorable.

He’d had a few encounters since then, between working on restoring Erebor’s library to its former glory, but they had been brief things, engineered simply because he desired a release and the other dwarf wanted the same. It had been pleasurable, of course, and he’d enjoyed each encounters, but it had lacked something from his first time. What it was, he really couldn’t say, not for certain. He’d known that it was likely that he would never see her again, that it was likely that she didn’t even think of their night as anything other than one night with a nice but inexperienced dwarf, but he had still found himself thinking of her at odd times.

Distracted by those thoughts, which he felt was understandable since the Prancing Pony was where they had met, and one of their rooms fit for hobbits had been where they had spent the night, Ori simply followed after his brothers once Nori had negotiated for their horses to stay in the stable and Dori had spoken to the owner about a room for the night. He accepted the food and mug of ale that his brothers passed to him, and decided that a good night’s sleep would be the perfect antidote to this weird mood.

Of course, any ideas about a warm bed and how nice it would be to sleep on pillows instead of his bedroll were driven from his mind when an angry hobbit stormed up to their table. The hobbit looked familiar, but Ori couldn’t say how. His hair was brown, as seemed to be the norm for hobbits, darker than Bilbo’s but lighter than Kili’s. Even after all of the time spent with Bilbo, seeing the hobbit’s bare feet was still a bit of a surprise, since they were the only race to go unshod constantly, although Ori had heard that elves did so during certain ceremonies.

It was the eyes that did it, however. He remembered eyes exactly like those, warm like melted chocolate as she’d laughed at his jokes. He remembered her mentioning a family, an elder brother who lived in the Shire but visited her when he could.

Ori didn’t have any time to get over his shock, however, as the hobbit stopped in front of their table, put his hands on his hips, and said, “You! You’re the ruffian who stole my sister’s honor! You…you… _dwarf_ , took her and then left her behind to raise your bastard half-breed alone!”

Dori rounded on Nori, who put up his hands immediately. “Never been with any hobbits!” Nori swore. “Men, elves, dwarves, yes, but I’ve never been with hobbits. Nothing personal, just never found one ready for a quick roll in the hay.”

“I should think not,” the hobbit sniffed. “But I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about him.” One hand left the hobbit’s ample hip to point unerringly at Ori. “I saw him and my sister together before he left town.”

“ _Ori?!_ ” Dori and Nori spoke at the same time, looking from the irate hobbit to their stunned brother. “You must be mistaken,” Dori began.

“Ori’s never been with anybody,” Nori added. “Should fix that, right shameful at his age…”

“It is not!” Ori snapped, finally breaking out of his stunned silence. “There’s nothing wrong with not having sex. But you’re wrong, I did. The first time was before the quest, when I left for the Shire before you two. I stopped in Bree, and-”

“And he took advantage of my sister!” the hobbit exclaimed angrily. One of the other hobbits in the establishment chuckled.

“I know your sister, Gormadoc, and no one can talk that lass into doing anything she doesn’t want to do,” the other hobbit called, laughing. Another patron, a man this time, joined in. “Aye, Fern’s not the sort to let a suitor lead her down the garden path. She knew what she was doing.”

The hobbit in front of them, Gormadoc apparently, sputtered at that, unable to form a proper reply, but Ori could care less about him, or even his brothers who were looking at him as though he’d grown a second head and a third eye. “Where does she live?” he asked, still stunned.

He knew, logically, that this had always been a possibility. Taking measures to prevent pregnancy had been the last thing on Ori’s mind, he still knew very little about such things. Fern had told him that she would take care of things, and so he’d relaxed. She had more experience than he did in such matters, and so he trusted her with that part. Still, he’d barely even contemplated the possibility of such a thing, and now it was revealed that it wasn’t just a possibility, it had really happened…he had a child, a child that would be at least two years old by now, and he’d never even met them.

The man took pity on the poor stunned dwarf, giving Ori directions to the small house that Fern stayed in. She lived in Bree now, rather than staying with her brother in the Shire. If the hobbit was always that hot-headed, Ori privately couldn’t blame her for leaving.

He felt slightly guilty sneaking out while Dori and Nori were arguing with Gormadoc, but he couldn’t help it. He had been thinking of Fern at various points since he’d left her, and now that he knew she had a child as well…he wasn’t sure what to think. All he knew was that he had to see her again, and meet his child. They could figure out anything else afterwards.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of abortion (it doesn't happen, but Fern's brother wanted to make her have one, so it's discussed).

Back in the Prancing Pony, neither Dori nor Nori, or even Gormadoc, had noticed that Ori had left. Instead, the three were too busy arguing about who was to blame.

“Your brother took advantage of my sister!” Gormadoc shouted, glaring at the dwarves. “Because of him, she had to leave Hobbiton and move to Bree! Our parents won’t even speak to her now!”

“Ori wouldn’t take advantage of anyone,” Dori defended. Granted, they’d just learned that there was more to Ori’s sex life than they’d known, but that didn’t change his opinion. Ori would have never forced himself on another, nor would he have lied merely to share their bed.

“Sounds to me like your sister was asking for it,” Nori added, smirking. “Maybe if she didn’t want a brat to take care of, she should have kept her legs shut.” One reason he had avoided a one night stand with a hobbit was because of how fertile they were. One mistake, and he’d have a woman chasing him all over Middle Earth with a kid. Granted, he tended to go for males regardless, but the point remained. “Besides, how do we know the kid’s even Ori’s? Did your sister tell you the father’s name?”

“My sister is stubborn,” Gormadoc replied, sniffing disapprovingly. “She told me to leave well enough alone after I’d recommended that she go to a healer for a tea to take care of the…problem.”

“You wanted her to get rid of the kid?” Nori asked, startled. Dori wasn’t far behind. Children were special to their race, and doing such a thing would be horrifying to any dwarf. Of course, there had been a few unplanned pregnancies, a few dams who hadn’t wanted the responsibility of caring for a child, but in those cases the pregnancy was carried to term and then the child was adopted by another. He couldn’t imagine telling one’s own sister to get rid of a child.

“Of course I did! She was pregnant and unwed, it was the recipe for a scandal,” Gormadoc ranted, either ignoring or not noticing the dwarves’ shocked and disapproving faces. “Of course she ignored me and ran off to Bree after everyone found out that she’d had relations without being married.” Her comment that, although it was the first time she’d gotten pregnant, it wasn’t her first time sharing a bed with another, hadn’t helped at all. “She’s lived here ever since with that…that… _half-breed._ And it’s your brother’s fault!”

“I think, if your sister’s anything like you, we should grab the kid and take him with us,” Nori said. “Right Ori? Ori?”

“Where did he run off to?” Dori asked, ignoring Gormadoc’s ranting that he was right, dwarves always ran off at the first sign of trouble. Ignoring him was safest, as otherwise he would be tempted to throttle the hobbit.

“He went to talk to Fern,” supplied the man who had interrupted Gormadoc earlier, causing all three to turn to look at him. “While you were squabbling, he decided to work things out for himself.”

* * *

 

It took Ori several minutes to actually find the place as, although there weren’t necessarily many houses in Bree, there were enough that searching was necessary. Still, once he stopped outside of the house the man had told him belonged to Fern, he thought that he would have recognized it even without the directions.

It was smaller than the other houses, and longer as well. The door was round, painted a beautiful sky blue and decorated with paintings of flowers. There was a small sign in the yard that said ‘Fern’s Bed & Breakfast, Small Folk welcome!’, and he chuckled softly at that. He thought she probably did good business, even with Butterbur’s ‘hobbit-sized’ accommodations at the Prancing Pony, if for no other reason than that it was quieter here. The lights were still on in the windows, as it wasn’t terribly late, and he saw several figures sitting around a table. Hobbits, it seemed, although there were a few dwarves as well. It was probably time for one of the hobbits’ many meals, and the dwarves likely decided which out of the seven they would want to be present for.

He couldn’t see Fern herself anywhere, and he really didn’t want to continue to look through windows, if for no other reasons than because he didn’t want to be caught and because it was starting to rain, so he moved forward and knocked on the door. On his run to get here, he’d tried to calm himself, to decide how he felt about all of this, but he didn’t know. He knew there was a chance, no matter what Gormadoc saw, that Fern had been with another and simply hadn’t wanted to raise a child with him. She was strong, he knew she could handle it on her own, but there was part of him that hoped that Gormadoc _wasn’t_ wrong.

The door opening drew him out of his circular thoughts, and Ori stared, wide-eyed, at the hobbit in front of him. Same dark hair bound back in a braid, wisps still escaping and curling around her face, likely driving her to distraction. Same warm, brown eyes, ample body that spoke of good meals and her enjoyment of them, something a dwarf could appreciate. Little had changed since Ori had last seen her, save for now she also had a child in her arms.

A child with red hair just like his own, and the beginning of a beard of the same color on his chin. Brown eyes, just like his mother’s, stared at him curiously. Curious, but not surprised, but then, dwarves likely stayed at the place fairly often given that it was closer to their size than the Prancing Pony would be. The lad was dressed in hobbit clothes, with bare feet as one would expect of any hobbit, but his ears weren’t pointed, instead rounded like a dwarf’s were.

Fern’s expression was as stunned as Ori’s, and she quickly set the lad on his feet. “Go eat, Henri, one of the others will make your plate. Mama needs to take care of our new guest.”

The boy pouted, but went to eat. Apparently, he was hobbit enough to value his meal over curiosity, not that Ori could blame him. The food smelled good, and his stomach rumbled, reminding him that Gormadoc had interrupted them before he’d gotten to eat his meal. And whatever was being served here smelled better than what Butterbur had served them.  Ori blushed faintly when he realized that Fern had heard him.

Fern rolled her eyes, but the gesture was overwhelmingly fond. “You didn’t eat, did you, foolish dwarf?” she teased, chuckling. “You did the same thing last time we met.”

“I was nervous!” Ori protested, because it was true. He’d ordered an ale and sat down, and spent the next ten minutes trying to get up enough nerve to ask one of the women to share his room. Instead, a female hobbit had come up to him, sat down across from him, and asked him if he was going to sit there fretting all night or if he had a reason for staring at every female in the room.

“I know, you blushed more brightly than a tomato when I spoke to you,” Fern said, smiling fondly. It had been adorable, seeing the dwarf blush like that, but they could reminisce later. Right now, however, she shut the door behind Ori and tugged the dwarf along as she started towards the dining room. “But, we can discuss all of that later. Right now, it’s time for supper, and I need to make sure that Nithi hasn’t given Henri sweets before dinner. He means well, but he tends to spoil the lad.”

“Who is Nithi?” That didn’t sound like a hobbit name, in Ori’s opinion. From what little he’d picked up about hobbits from Bilbo and Fern, hobbits usually were named after flowers and other growing things, or they were named after family members. Nithi sounded…dwarvish, really.

“He’s a dwarf who stays here, he’s the town’s blacksmith,” Fern said. “I met him not long after I came to Bree, he helped me get set up running this place. I’ve always been interested in running a place like this, but there’s no need for one in the Shire. If you’re traveling, you’ll be staying with family.”

Ori really wanted to ask if Fern and Nithi were together, considering that the dwarf had apparently helped her out over the past two years, but he really didn’t think it was his business. Fern hadn’t even confirmed if Henri was his, although he wasn’t doubting it as much now that he’d seen the boy. He wasn’t sure what to say, he actually would have liked to have his brothers around as one or both of them would likely have suggestions. But, if he could travel across Middle Earth to save a mountain from a dragon, he thought that he could talk to Fern about their night together.

As he sat down to eat, Ori reflected, ruefully, that he would almost rather another round with the dragon right now.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner wasn’t as bad as Ori had feared. The other dwarves staying at the bed and breakfast were from the Iron Hills, in Bree on business. The exception to that was Nithi, who was really Fern’s only permanent customer. The hobbits were only staying in Bree until the things they’d ordered from Nithi (new plows, rakes, and things of that sort) were finished, and the other dwarves were going to be heading home once their business was completed. Fern didn’t seem too concerned, though, she said that once those hobbits went back to the Shire, there would be a few more making the trip. The lure of dwarven goods was enough to get some of the more adventurous hobbits out of their homes.

Henri had a hobbit’s appetite, from what Ori could see. Even if the smear of chocolate on his face showed that he had indeed had a few sweets, he still was able to eat his dinner. Or supper. Whichever meal it was for the hobbits, Ori wasn’t entirely sure. Bilbo had tried to explain the concept to them on the quest, but although he knew the names of all the meals, Ori was still a little fuzzy on the times.

After dinner, the boarders did the dishes, Ori moving to help them while Fern got Henri bathed and ready for bed. They didn’t have to do this, Fern would clean up after Henri was in bed for the night, but they all helped out. She did things that weren’t required of her, like mending their clothes when they ripped or were just worn enough to get holes. It wasn’t included in their rent, but she did it anyway, and so they tended to try to make her job easier when they could. The hobbits usually took some persuading, since after dinner they just wanted to sit down with their pipes, but the dwarves were usually able to persuade them.

Ori helped out, of course, and then when the dwarves and hobbits seemed content to relax in the main room, he headed toward the area where the bedrooms seemed to be, looking for Fern. He didn’t want to snoop, or to interrupt her time with Henri, but he really did want to talk to her. He didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous, even before they set out on the quest. Apparently, an angry dragon had nothing on potential fatherhood.

“What story do you want tonight, Henri?” Ori heard Fern ask, and despite himself he crept towards the partially open door, curious about hobbit bedtime stories and how they differed from the ones Dori and Nori had told him.

“Yours,” Henri replied, the word swallowed up in a yawn. That meant nothing to Ori, but it clearly meant something to Fern, as he heard rustling, as though she was getting comfortable, and a soft chuckle.

“Again? You must know it by heart, little one,” Fern said fondly. When Ori moved slightly closer, he could see that she was sitting on the bed, her son cuddled close. Once they both were settled, she started her story. “Okay, once there was a hobbit.”

For a moment, Ori thought she was telling Bilbo’s story, but that didn’t make sense with what Henri had asked for. Then, the little hobbit (half-hobbit? Dwobbit?) murmured, “Mama.”

“Yes, her name was Fern,” she continued, and with a start Ori realized that she was going to tell a story about herself, maybe even when they met. Any thoughts of leaving, or of eavesdropping being wrong faded as he waited for what she was going to say. “She lived in a cozy smial in Hobbiton with her parents and her brother. They were content in their lives, but she wasn’t. She wanted to have an adventure.”

Ori smiled faintly. One hobbit has to be practically dragged into an adventure, another one actually wants an adventure. Strange creatures, hobbits.

“So, when her father needed a few things from Bree, she immediately volunteered to go get them. While not much of an adventure, it was enough to satisfy her temporarily,” Fern continued. “There was some protesting by her family, but eventually they relented and after packing some food and clothes for the journey, she set off. Bree isn’t far from the Shire, and she kept to the well-known paths, so she didn’t get lost and made good time getting to Bree.”

Ori wondered how long Fern had been in Bree before she met him. She had told him that she was in town on family business, but hadn’t explained further. Then again, he really hadn’t explained much about his quest either.

“Once she had placed her father’s orders at the appropriate shops, she decided to go to the Prancing Pony to get something to eat,” Fern continued, drawing Ori out of her musings. “When she got there, she saw a dwarf sitting by himself, looking nervous and a bit lonely, so she went to talk to him. They ate together and talked and laughed, as he was a funny dwarf when he wanted to be. He wasn’t going to be in town long, he was leaving on a very important quest, but he didn’t want to leave without spending one more night with a friend.”

That’s a nice way of putting the fact that I didn’t want to die a virgin, Ori mused, smiling faintly. It wasn’t like she could tell Henri _that_ , after all.

“The next day, the dwarf had to leave and the hobbit lass’ goods were ready to be picked up at the shops, so the two parted company, unsure if they would ever see each other again. But, the dwarf did leave behind a rather surprising present for Fern.”

“Me,” Henri said sleepily, his eyes closed and leaning more against his mother. It was clear to Ori that the lad was going to be asleep in minutes.

“Yes, little one,” Fern said fondly, kissing the top of his head. “So, the hobbit lass moved to Bree to raise her son, and they lived happily ever after.” She got her son arranged under the covers and stood, blowing out the candle on his nightstand. “Goodnight, Henri. Pleasant dreams.”

The lad was clearly asleep before the last word, and a soft snore was all that answered her. Fern smiled as she left the room, seemingly unsurprised to see Ori in the hallway. “If you want to sneak up on a hobbit, take off the boots,” she advised, nodding at Ori’s feet. “The clopping of boots on wood floors, especially wood floors that can creak, means you don’t have much chance of sneaking around.”

“I wasn’t trying to-” Ori protested, but Fern waved him off. She wasn’t angry, he hadn’t heard anything particularly damning and it was actually a good way to introduce their topic of conversation.

“Come, we can talk in my room, where the others won’t overhear,” Fern said, leading him to the room next to Henri’s. There was a small sitting room attached to an equally small bedroom. “Normally, we eat with the others, especially since I’m in charge of cooking for everyone, but sometimes Henri and I have our supper here.” She made a pot of tea for them, reminding Ori of Dori for a moment, and they both sat down in the comfortable chairs. “So, you wanted to talk about Henri.”

“Yes,” Ori admitted, picking up the mug of tea. Apparently she didn’t use tea cups, at least not in her rooms. Then again, with a growing child, he couldn’t blame her for using more sturdy materials. “But after that story…it’s pretty obvious.”

“That Henri is yours? I did plan to tell you tonight, but yes, it’s true,” Fern said simply, shrugging. “I found out a few months after you left on your quest. What could I do, listen to Gormadoc and get rid of him? I wouldn’t. It wasn’t Henri’s fault that we weren’t as careful as we should have been. Besides, I always planned to have a child, he just came sooner than expected.”

“I didn’t know…what we could do to…not have a child,” Ori admitted, blushing. “I thought that you would handle that, since you knew so much else…”

“A tip for you, unless you plan on fathering children all across Middle Earth,” Fern said, smiling. “Always ask. Don’t assume that the female has the birth control handled, as sometimes she will forget. Which is what I did. Normally, I have a tea I drink that prevents worry about such things, but I didn’t pack it. I need to have a cup a day, or it doesn’t work. I’d forgotten to drink it while I was preparing for my trip here, and then I hadn’t packed it and thus didn’t drink it while I was in town.”

“I didn’t know that,” Ori said, shaking his head. “So Henri is…does he know? I know in the story you just said his father was a dwarf…”

“I didn’t tell him your name, no, as I had no idea if I would see you again,” Fern said simply. “We’ve got along fairly well thus far, so he hasn’t really asked about his father much. More so when he spends time with other children who have fathers, but not often. He once asked if Nithi was his father, but we both corrected him.”

“Is Nithi…?” Ori didn’t know how to ask without sounding jealous, or making her angry. Or both.

“We are friends, Ori,” Fern said simply. “That’s all. He helped me when I needed it, and I’ve returned the favor. That’s all. He isn’t my type, nor am I his. He’s good with Henri and sometimes watches him if he’s not busy and I have errands to run, but that’s all.”

“Oh,” Ori said, not sure what he was feeling. It was suspiciously close to relief, but he ignored that. “So…I guess we have a lot to talk about?”

“We do indeed,” Fern agreed, pouring herself another cup of tea. This would take awhile, she knew.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! RL has been kicking my butt, but I'll try to update more in the future. No promises, because I've been working a lot, but I'll do my best.

They ended up talking for most of the night. Fern caught Ori up on what he had missed in their lives, answering any questions he had about Henri and filling in a few details that she’d left out of her story, like her parents throwing her out when she refused to ‘quietly take care of the problem’ and her brother chasing her to the borders of the Shire trying to convince her that she was wrong and that it would be best for everyone if she listened to her parents. In turn, Ori told her about the quest, since it was safe now to share the particulars, and what he had been doing since Erebor was reclaimed.

Fern knew Bilbo, although not well. She knew him in passing, and he’d told her stories when she was just a lass. The stories weren’t anything compared to the ones he likely had now, but they were ones based off of his mother’s adventures, or that he had read in books, and that was part of what had fueled her desire for adventure in the first place. Ori, in turn, told her about growing up with two brothers who were older than him and had practically raised him, and still treated him like a baby sometimes now. And he’d admitted that part of the reason he’d signed up for the quest was to prove himself, to his brothers and everyone else.

She eventually did show him to the room he could stay in, and told him that there was room for his brothers as well, and after breakfast the next morning Ori decided that it was time for him to face the music and talk to his brothers. He knew what he wanted to do and they weren’t going to change his mind.

~~

Dori and Nori were still at the Prancing Pony, in the room they had rented the night before. While they had been tempted to chase after Ori, they realized that this was something that their little brother would need to do for himself. As much as they did want to protect him, even Dori knew that Ori was an adult and capable of handling something like this on his own.

That didn’t mean that both Dori and Nori didn’t jump on Ori as soon as he entered the room, immediately asking questions, but really, he should be grateful that they held off as long as they had.

“Is the kid yours?” Nori asked, ignoring the light slap from Dori. Hey, he wanted to make sure that his brother wasn’t going to be taken advantage of, he wouldn’t apologize for that.

“Henri is mine, yes,” Ori admitted, sitting down on the too tall bed and swinging his legs idly. “She remembered me telling her your names, so she thought that having ‘ri’ in a name was a tradition in our family.” He’d thought it was nice, that she’d tried to honor his family even while not understanding dwarven naming. And, really, she wasn’t that far off of the mark. “She has an inn in town, she invited us to stay. There’s usually only hobbits and dwarves, it’s made for smaller folk. She does good business since sometimes the rooms here are too big for hobbits and she includes all the meals in her price.”

“Gloin would love to talk to her,” Nori snickered. “Lass set up an inn not far from another inn, but still does good business just ‘cause she feeds them.”

“Hobbits take food seriously, remember how cross Bilbo got when he was hungry?” Ori asked, smiling faintly. They’d learned to stay away from the hobbit when he was very hungry, as Bilbo had a sharp tongue that made up for his lack of skill with a sword. “I told Fern that we’d stay at the bed and breakfast for a few days, just until we can figure something out.”

“Ori…” Dori started, then hesitated. While he was glad that Ori seemed to have gotten on well with the hobbit, and that she was apparently less awful than her brother (not a difficult feat to manage, that), he wasn’t sure what Ori was hoping for. The hobbit lass seemed to have done well so far for herself and her son, would she want Ori’s help? And, if she did, what would Ori do? Their home was in Erebor now, Ori had work in the library that he enjoyed. It was what he had trained for, what he enjoyed. Likewise, the hobbit was likely content with her life in Bree, happy to run her business and raise her son, all without too much strife. Hobbits valued good meals, warm hearths, and friendship, according to Bilbo, and she had all of that here. Would she really want to leave that behind to travel across the world? Would she want to leave her life behind to live in a mountain, when hobbits seemed to prefer open spaces and green, growing things?

“Please, Dori,” Ori said, nearly begged. He knew that Dori was worried, Nori was too (although he was better at hiding it), but right now he didn’t want to worry. He wanted to take his brothers to Fern’s, introduce them and let them meet Henri. He wanted to believe that it would be that easy, just for today.

“Alright, Ori,” Nori said, giving his elder brother a look. Dori sighed but nodded. Tomorrow, they could try to talk some sense into Ori. Right now he was too happy, not that they blamed him. He was also likely still more than a little shocked, as he’d found out about his previously unknown child less than a day ago. It was a lot for anyone to take in, so they could let him have his way now. Besides, neither of them had even met this hobbit, Fern, yet. From the way Ori was talking about her, she couldn’t be as bad as her brother, but they’d need to make sure. Maybe once they’d met her, and Ori’s son, then the decision would come more easily.

Ori beamed at the agreement, hopping off of the bed and starting to gather up their things. “Great. Let’s go now, Fern said that everyone usually leaves after second breakfast to wander around town, so we’ll be able to talk to her while she’s working.” Ori planned to help, and he hoped his brothers would too, but even the prospect of helping Fern clean her inn from top to bottom didn’t dim his smile. Maybe, just maybe, it would all be okay.


End file.
